


Empathy Chocolates

by fragilelittleteacup



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Loneliness, M/M, Pre-Slash, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 04:29:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8607868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragilelittleteacup/pseuds/fragilelittleteacup
Summary: It just so happens that they both hate spending Valentine's Day alone.





	

Marcus stared glumly out the window.

It was probably ridiculous, the reason he’d taken the day off work today; he just _couldn’t_ handle Valentine’s Day. People still _celebrated_ it, these grown goddamn adults, and it was a giant reminder that he was so single he may as well have it tattooed on his forehead. And it didn’t matter, usually, it really didn’t, because he was a successful, happy, attractive and well-liked guy… but Valentine’s Day was the one day a year that he felt like an idiot. A lonely idiot.

He put on the TV, got out a cold beer, and put his feet up on the couch. Daytime TV on Valentine’s Day. He actually considered going out and buying some ice cream just so he could complete this truly pathetic picture.

Halfway through an episode of Bondi Vet–which he had become, somehow, ridiculously invested in–he retrieved his phone and started scrolling through his contacts. There were a few people there who wouldn’t be opposed to spending the night if he called now. Charisse. Hayley. Richard. Trent. They were all still single, as far as Marcus knew.

 _Still,_ he thought glumly, tapping his thumb on the glass screen, _I can’t just call outta the blue._

He sighed loudly in protest of his situation, and his persistent inability to successfully maintain a relationship, and threw his phone to the other side of the couch. He looked back at the TV, where the unbelievably and annoyingly attractive Bondi Vet was doing very little to reassure Marcus about his own attractiveness and success in life.

Just as he was seriously considering going out and buying some ice cream, he heard two knocks on his apartment door.

Beyond confused, he looked up, frowning deeply. There was no one he knew who would come to his home unannounced. A neighbour, maybe?

He turned the TV off, and went to the door. Old instincts flared up inside him, and he found his hand instinctively reaching for his hip, for a gun that wasn’t there; but, it’d been a long time since he’d lived in a neighbourhood where a knock signalled the possibility of a robbery, and his hand fell, at ease. He looked through the keyhole.

Sherlock.

He closed his eyes for a moment, undecided as to whether he should feel relieved at the prospect of company, or apprehensive because… well. Because, Sherlock.

He opened the door, an eyebrow raised dryly. “What’re you doin’ here, Sherlock?”

Sherlock regarded him with something resembling distaste. He was wearing a t-shirt and jeans, absurdly, and Marcus frowned at him, more used to seeing Sherlock in suits. Before he could comment, Sherlock held out his arms with stiff, robotic movements. In his hands was a box of chocolates. In the shape of a love heart.

“…What is that?”

“I consider you to be an intelligent man, Marcus, surely you can figure it out.”

Marcus stared at the box for a while longer, then at Sherlock. Sherlock was blushing deeply, his eyes flitting to the side, displaying a shyness Marcus hadn’t learned to associate with him on a typical day. This was, quite apparently, not a typical day.

“Well, go on!” Sherlock shook the box, the contents rattling somewhat. “Take it!”

Marcus did, slowly. “…Thank you…?”

Sherlock nodded quickly. “You’re welcome. I’ll just,” he gestured, and turned to leave.

“’Ey, hold up,” Marcus blinked, stunned, still holding the box, “uh, why… why’re you giving me Valentine’s Day gifts…?”

Sherlock blushed even more. “Is it not obvious?”

“Uh… not to me…?”

“Valentine’s Day upsets you, because you must spend it alone. Why else would you take the day off work?”

“…You didn’t think maybe I was spending it with someone?”

Sherlock raised his eyebrows dryly. “Aside from Doctor Chris Brown?”

“How the hell do you know the name of the Bondi Vet guy?”

Sherlock shrugged. Marcus, in any other context, would grill him about how he’d come to possess such pedestrian and _normal_ knowledge, but the idea of Sherlock watching daytime TV in his spare time wasn’t enough to distract him from how utterly humiliating this was.

“So, you brought me… sympathy Valentine’s Day chocolates?”

Sherlock swallowed, looking away, and Marcus saw a vulnerability in his face that was unexpected, surprising.

“I also spend Valentine’s Day alone.”

Marcus blinked.

Sherlock stared back at him, accusingly, as if Marcus was to blame for the fact they were in similar situations.

“So, uh…” Marcus began, when Sherlock didn’t continue talking, “… _empathy_ Valentines Day chocolates…? Or somethin’…?”

“Or something.”

Sherlock didn’t leave, standing in place fidgeting, hands pulling at the hem of his shirt. Marcus considered spending the rest of the day alone, thought about how he’d spent the night with Sherlock after his breakup with Detective Scott, and realised, hell, it might not be so bad.

“You wanna come inside?”

Sherlock considered him for a moment more, before a small, shy smile appeared on his lips. It was a nervous, endearingly sweet expression, and so decidedly unlike Sherlock that Marcus found himself smiling too, opening the door wider.

“C’mon in. If you’re hangin’ here, we’re watchin’ shit TV together.”

Sherlock walked inside, still smiling. Somehow, Marcus didn't think he minded.

 

 

 

 


End file.
